


Battle Sum

by dracoqueen22



Category: Justice League - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Fluff, Established Relationship, In Which Bruce Tries, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-04-05 11:50:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4178739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracoqueen22/pseuds/dracoqueen22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce tries to console Wally with words. He's not very good at it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Battle Sum

**Author's Note:**

> Originally, a flash fiction fill. It's a sorta Justice League/Young Justice mashup though Wally is in his early 20's in this.

He was exactly where Bruce thought he would be. And while tracking Wally down was never much of a challenge, it was time consuming. He could go a long distance in a short time.   
  
Bruce climbed the hill and found Wally at the crest of it, sitting on the edge of the world where no one could see him. His arms were folded around his knees, his shoulders hunched. Red and gold were in tatters around him.   
  
Wally's uniform was built to withstand friction, but it couldn't repair itself. Not like his body could. The scent of smoke clung to him and soot had left its mark, even on his hair. Green eyes were hooded and dark.   
  
Bruce knew that look. How often had he stared at his reflection and seen that black gloom staring back?  
  
Not as often here lately, he realized. He had Wally to thank for that. And now here Bruce was, trying to encourage and reassure something broken.   
  
Bruce didn't know how to do that. He did not know how to fix broken things except to throw money at them and toss them in someone else's direction. Someone who was better at it than him. Someone like Dick. Dick should be here. He was Wally's best friend. He was the one good with people. Genuinely good with people.   
  
Bruce... was not.   
  
Leaving Wally here to wallow was simply not an option. Bruce was the one here. He had to be the strong one, to uplift the one who rarely went without a smile.   
  
Bruce sat down next to Wally, the muddy grass instantly soaking his suit. It would have been odd to show up in Central City as Batman. But right now, he wished he had both his costume and his cape.   
  
They were close enough that their shoulders brushed. That Bruce could feel the static potential of the Speed Force nipping at him through his clothes.   
  
Bruce opened and closed his mouth. Sharp platitudes barked at the League were inappropriate here.   
  
Wally was more than them.   
  
He sighed and peered down at Wally's city. Look no further than what's in front of your eyes for inspiration, he reasoned.   
  
“Nice view,” Bruce said.   
  
Wally huffed a laugh. “That's what you're leading with?” His voice was hoarse, not from smoke inhalation, the accelerated healing would have fixed that. But the drying streaks down his face hinted to some time spent in tears.   
  
“It seemed the least offensive,” Bruce admitted.   
  
Wally scrubbed at his face. “I'd ask how you found me but you're you. I'd be more confused if you hadn't.”   
  
“We all have our specialties.”   
  
Wally sighed and looked at him, an odd juxtaposition of soot-streaked skin and torn cowl. “Bruce--”  
  
“You did the best you could do,” he interrupted, careful to keep his voice even. “And I'm aware that's not much comfort considering our fellow teammates and the challenges we face, but it's the truth.”   
  
Bruce looked at Wally at times like this and was painfully reminded how young his lover was. Old enough but also... not.   
  
God, Bruce was old.   
  
“Not even Clark can save everyone, everywhere. He'd learned that harsh lesson a long time ago. We win some, we lose some.”   
  
Bruce reached up, the pad of his thumb wiping a wet tear and succeeding in smearing the soot over the ghost of Wally's freckles. He'd grown out of them, sadly.   
  
“But as Alfred tells me, it's the sum of the battles that matter.”   
  
“Alfred told you that?”   
  
Bruce lifted his shoulders. “I paraphrase. But he's right. If I haunt myself with the lives I couldn't save, their weight will slow me down for the lives I could save.”   
  
Green eyes shifted to the side as though considering. The raw potential around him eased, less biting static and more playful tickling, a normal sensation.   
  
Wally reached up and shoved the remnants of his cowl away from his face. He raked fingers through his hair and released a shuddery exhalation.   
  
“You don't always have to be right, you know,” he said.   
  
The corners of Bruce's lips twitched upward. “Yes, I do.”   
  
A small laugh, genuine this time, escaped Wally. He shook his head and tilted his body to the side. He pressed closer, his head landing on Bruce's shoulder. The wild spikes of his hair tickled Bruce's jaw.   
  
He didn't mind.   
  
“Dick's better at this,” Wally said.   
  
“Yes, I know.”   
  
“But I appreciate the effort.”   
  
Bruce turned toward Wally and pressed a kiss to his ash-scented hair. Something tight around his chest eased. “Alfred made cannolis.” They, like about a hundred other things, were Wally's favorite.   
  
“Can we just sit here for a while?”   
  
He must really be shaken up to not even be hungry. But if this was what he wanted, well, Bruce wasn't going to argue.   
  
“Sure,” he replied. “I am where I need to be.”   
  
Wally leaned a bit more against him, his fingers twisting restless patterns around each other.   
  
He didn't speak but then, he didn't have to.

***


End file.
